by Urban, Tony
He risked a glance toward her and Ramey thought she saw something new in his face, something she hadn’t ever seen in him before. Fear.
“It’s nothing you’ve done. I want to be with you so bad that sometimes I feel clear sick about it. But it isn’t right.”
“Why?”
“When I’m with you, heck even when I’m not, I feel like I found a piece of my puzzle that’s been missing all my life even though I thought it was whole. I didn’t think I needed anything more than what I had. But now I know better. And at the same time, I feel like I’m too dumb and too old and that, when you get out of your teens and experience more of life you’ll realize that too.”
“I’ll never— “
“You don’t know. You can’t know. It could happen. And I don’t want to be someone you regret.”
Ramey grabbed his coat and leaned into him. She thought his eyes looked wet and she wanted to kiss him so bad it hurt but she could tell he still had words to say.
“I haven’t been to church since about the time my mama died. But I got enough of it growing up that I know right from wrong. And I know it wouldn’t be right for me to be with you, the way a husband and wife are meant to be together. Not until you know you want to spend the rest of your life with me.”
She felt a tear hit her cheek and thought it was Wim’s until she rubbed her face and realized she was the one crying. “You won’t sleep with me because you think we should be married first?”
Wim nodded. She thought she could feel his heart beating even through multiple layers of clothing.
“Then marry me, Wim.”
He cast quick glances down at her, like he was trying to get a peek at an eclipse, then stopped and finally looked her in the eyes. She didn’t realize she could love him even more but in that moment, it was so strong that she felt like a bomb was going off inside her.
“What?” He asked.
“I don’t need a ring or a church or a piece of paper. I need you. So, marry me.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to just say it.”
“I want to be with you forever. I’m as sure of that as I am my own name. Marry me.”
“But, how can we?”
“I might know someone. You let me take care of it.”
She pulled his face down to hers and kissed him. The rough stubble from almost a week of not shaving scratched at her face like sandpaper but she didn’t mind. She didn’t mind at all.
Chapter 30
Mina stared out the kitchen window as she washed dishes in lukewarm water. She hadn’t stepped foot outside the Airstream since the zombie outbreak. Maybe it was a glorified tin can but she was safe there.
“You ain’t safe in here either, Birdie. You ain’t safe nowhere,” her daddy’s voice said. And she knew he was right. She wasn’t safe inside. She wasn’t safe outside. She wasn’t safe on the Ark. She wasn’t safe anywhere. She understood that now. And what made that even worse was that Mina also knew she’d never be safe again.
Why’d you leave me alone, Bundy? You could have blown the both of us up in that ambulance and saved me all this misery.
He thought he was saving her, but in the process cursed her to a life alone with nothing but her fear and her father’s voice to occupy her mind.
Outside the trailer a man stumbled past the window. Mina immediately knew his gait to be that of a zombie. She’d seen it too often to mistake it. He lurched along the dirty pathway that was half snow, half mud.
Mina backed away from the window.
Don’t see me.
But she bumped into the table, knocking a cup to the floor. It exploded.
“Way to go, Birdie. You can’t do nothin right.”
The man’s head slowly turned in her direction. Mina dove to the floor, landing on the broken glass. A thick shard of it buried itself in her knee, hitting bone. Mina ignored the pain. She needed a weapon because she knew the zombie was coming.
She crawled on her knees, the glass grinding itself into more pieces as she moved. She pulled open a cabinet filled with pots and pans. They banged and clattered as she rummaged through them and she heard the zombie at the door. Hitting the door. Trying to get in.
Mina took the handle of a heavy cast iron skillet and turned toward the entrance. She gripped it in both hands like she was holding a ping pong paddle. It wasn’t much as far as weapons went, but she’d killed her own father with a bedpan so she suspected she could make do.
The door handle clicked and slowly came open. Mina squeezed the skillet’s handle so tight her black knuckles turned white.
“Get away from here!”
The movement stopped.
“Mina?”
Holy shit, it knows my name!
“I said get away!”
A shadow fell into the doorway and then the zombie moved into the frame. Only it wasn’t a zombie. It was Nestor Campagna, a man who was assigned to keep watch at the gate during the last meeting.
“Everything okay in there, Mina?”
She realized what a spectacle she must be. Skillet raised, ready to strike, blood pouring from her knee. If everyone here didn’t already think she was a crazy black woman, just wait until this story worked its way around camp.
“Nestor?”
“I heard a noise. Sounded like something broke.”
Mina set the pan aside. She went to stand but the glass in her knee made her rethink that. “I dropped a mug. It broke.”
“I see that. What’s with the skillet?”
Nestor stepped into the trailer but remained in the door way. His big, dark eyes were wide.
“He’s scared of you, Birdie. He can tell you’re crazy as a June bug.”
“I was…” She couldn’t come up with a lie quick enough and decided to go with the truth. “I thought you were a zombie. Saw you walking by looking funny.”
Nestor offered a guilty smile and raised up his foot. “The sole came off my boot. Kept filling up with snow and I kept trying to kick it out.” He took another look at her bloodied knee. “I’m really sorry I gave you such a scare.”
“It’s not you. I’m half crazy.”
“No. After last week, everyone’s nerves are shot.” He grabbed a dishcloth off the counter and handed it to her. “That looks like its gonna need stitches. Why don’t you let me help you up to the clinic? Get it disinfected and cleaned out good. Last thing you need’s an infection.”
The clinic. Doc’s clinic. He was about the last person Mina wanted to see. She took a look down at her knee and saw the mangled mess of flesh plus the glass extruding from it. The wound would certainly require stitches but Mina could sew in a pinch and thought she’d prefer doing the job herself to letting Doc anywhere near her.
Delphine handed Emory a baggie of marijuana and a small stack of thin papers.
“That’s the last of it until next summer so you best make it last.”
“Much obliged, Madame.”
“I ain’t no Madame.”
Delphine had been his supplier since they arrived at the Ark. Well, since a month after they arrived. When he wasn’t doing whatever task he’d been assigned for the day, Emory enjoyed wandering. On one of his walks he’d seen the ten feet by ten feet patch of plants soaking up the sunlight. It was a mile or more from camp, near the isolated north end of the island and he’d wondered who had taken the initiative to plant them.
He decided to play detective and make it a point to visit the garden daily. About a week in to his stakeouts, he saw Delphine staggering toward it, a five-gallon bucket of water clutched in her hands with plenty sloshing out as she walked. He didn’t confront her about them that day. In fact, he waited almost a week. Then, one day in the mess hall he casually commented, “Mary, Mary quite contrary, what makes your garden grow?” in a singsong voice. Delphine’s head snapped around so quick he thought she might sprain her neck. He flashed a reassuring smile and took a seat beside her and their friendship had begun.
They sat in front of the
remnants of that garden now. The plants had been cut to the ground, revealing the nearly frozen lake that stretched out before them.
“It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?” Emory said.
“Prettiest place I ever did see. But I ain’t seen many.”
“Well, I have. And it’s certainly near the top of the list.”
They were silent for a minute, taking in the view and enjoying the cool but not quite cold air that blew by. It was hard for Emory to stay quiet for long though.
“This is going to sound selfish, coming from someone who survived the plague when so many did not, but I do wonder if this might make the people who survived change for the better.”
Delphine narrowed her eyes which turned into black slits. “How’s that?”
“People, not everyone certainly, but most, seemed to have forgotten that life is a gift. Living became something that happened in between working and driving and shopping and playing games on your phone. It was an afterthought. Maybe this will make people appreciate it again.”
He thought Delphine looked skeptical or confused, or both. She didn’t respond for a long while but when she did she surprised him.
“You think people here appreciate it? Running around like drone bees, doing their part to keep the hive going?”
“I think there are many flaws here.”
“You got that right. There’s many a day I wished I’d have told Doc when he showed up here and told me about the commune he wanted to build, that he could stick it where the sun don’t shine. But at the time, the way he told it, it sounded good and almost Christian. After all, I didn’t need all this land for myself.” She paused to sniff and clear her sinuses. “But the way I imagined, in a commune all’s equal. That ain’t the case here.”
“Certainly not.”
“But now the doing’s done and I’m stuck with him. Guess that’s my penance for him keeping me alive.”
Emory watched her. There was frustration and sadness in her eyes. He wanted to keep her talking but was wary about pushing it too hard. “I understand. It’s almost miraculous that he could prevent the plague from reaching the island. Out there—“ he motioned to the air beyond them, “It seemed virtually no one was spared.
Delphine gave something like a snort or a “Hmpf” but didn’t respond further.
Emory pocketed the marijuana and decided not to pursue the issue. Not now, anyway. He stood and stretched. Joints in his lower back snapped like dry twigs.
“Well, my friend, I must head back lest the others worry I’ve fallen into a ditch or perhaps got kicked in the head by one of Wim’s cows and am now wandering about dimwitted and lost.”
Delphine shook her head. “You’re an odd duck.”
Emory smiled. As an old, gay, black man he’d been called many things in his life. An ‘odd duck’ was a compliment in comparison. “And you are a splendid horticulturist.”
He gave a little bow and left her. As he strolled away he thought his friendship with Delphine had the potential to produce much more valuable fruit than cannabis. He thought that, in time, Delphine might be the key to unraveling this mysterious world Doc had created.
Chapter 31
The news ripped through camp like a tornado. The boy Wim had brought into the Ark was not simply alive, but up and walking around. Mina saw him when she went to collect their rations. It was her first foray outside the trailer and she saw the boy sitting in the mess hall, eating breakfast with a few of the others. Harsh, black stitches that reminded her of railroad tracks curved up from each side of his mouth, but he seemed fine aside from the cosmetic damage. She even saw him laugh when Phillip tried, and failed, to balance a spoon on his nose. The boy saw her too and Mina could feel his eyes on her as she waited in line.
She asked around and found out his name was Wayne Supanek. No one knew why he’d been sliced up, but Doc had assured them that he was no longer contagious, if he’d ever been so in the first place. And apparently Phillip had been put in charge of acclimating him to camp. That alone made Mina hope to avoid him, but after she was handed her box of canned and dried food and bottled water, Wayne caught her as she hit the exit.
“I’ll get that for you,” he said as he held open the door.
“Thanks, but I could have managed.”
Mina passed through into the cold daylight.
Stay away from me.
But he didn’t.
“You’re one of the outsiders, aren’t you? Phillip told me about you.”
“My name’s Mina. And I’m sure he did.”
“He told me how Doc’s people saved you and your friends. How’d you get here?”
“In a car.”
“But like, how’d you find it? Does Doc let anyone who survived in?”
“Nope, we were the last. Until you. And I bet your new pals didn’t tell you this, but they didn’t exactly welcome you with open arms.”
“Why not? You’d think they’d be happy to find survivors.”
Mina didn’t need any more friends, especially ones who’d been vetted by Doc and Phillip, but Wayne followed her like a lost puppy all the way to the trailer, peppering her with questions the entire time. She tried to be curt, bordered on rude even, but he refused to take a hint.
When they got within ten yards of the trailer, the door pushed open and Wim leaned out. Mina could see the surprise on his face when he spotted the kid. He bounded down the steps and into the snow.
“You’re— “
Wayne cut him off. “Holy shit, man. You’re the guy who saved me. Wim, right? I’m Wayne.”
Wim pushed his hand forward and the kid took it between both of his, pumping up and down rapid fire. At the sight, Mina’s frost thawed, just a little.
“I thought for sure you were gonna die,” Wim said.
“I almost did, from what I’ve been told. I sucked up the antibiotics like a motherfucker, but I made it. Beat the odds all over again. Wish there was still a lottery because I’d sure as shit be playing it.”
“How about you get out of the cold and come inside?” Wim said.
Wayne nodded and raced up the steps. Wim took the box from Mina, a big smile on his face. She hated to do anything to change that expression, but he needed to know.
“Doc and Phillip are already in his head. So just be careful what you say, okay?”
Wim’s smile did falter and Mina immediately felt guilty. “I will.”
Mina watched as Wim and Wayne shared stories about their lives and the days after the plague. Mina found the kid to be a little too excited about the whole ordeal, but tried to write it off as the follies of youth.
“You ought watch that one, Birdie. He worms his way into the group and next thing you know, they won’t have no need for you,” her daddy’s voice said inside her head. She thought he might be right too. Wayne was young and bound to get bigger and stronger. He’d certainly be more of an asset than herself.
It was clear Wim liked him and now that bothered her. And it bothered her more that the boy was so doggone happy. What gave him the right to be so happy?
“You’ve got a pretty sweet set up here though. I mean, an island? Doesn’t get much safer than that,” Wayne said.
“I suppose,” Wim said.
“Suppose? Do you know something I don’t?”
Wim opened his mouth to respond but Mina cut him off. “He means that, on an island, we run out of supplies. Then people like him have to go risk their lives so everyone else can wipe their butt.”
“Oh.” Wayne giggled. “I never thought about that part.” He turned back to Wim. “But anyway, thanks for saving me. I’d have died for sure without you.”
“I’m glad I found you.”
“I am too man. I think I’m gonna like it here.”
Mina had liked it on the Ark too, at first. That changed over time but she wasn’t going to tell Wayne that. He could find out what Doc and his allies were like all on his own.
Chapter 32
“She’s correct
. Although I might be a little out of practice.” Emory grinned, a delighted smile if Ramey had ever seen one.
“How did you know about this?” Wim asked Ramey.
“We talk, Wim. Not everyone’s a glorified mute like you.”
Wim’s cheeks brightened and Ramey gave him a pinch in the side to show she was kidding.
He still feels thin, she thought and shivered a little because of how close she’d come to losing him forever. “How many ceremonies did you say you performed? Twenty?”
“Heavens no. Twelve at the most. Ten is more likely though. Perhaps even as few as eight. Weddings all tend to blend together after a while so it’s difficult to keep track.
“But how are you allowed to marry people? You’re not a reverend,” Wim said.
“That’s correct. I am an ordinary citizen. Albeit a very gay one. When marriage between people like myself became legal, I had a myriad of friends who wanted to make their love official but they desired something a touch more intimate than standing in a courthouse in front of some stranger. So, I took a few courses on the internet and a few weeks later, wah-lah. Emery Prescott, Licensed Minister at your service.”
“Ain’t you just full of surprises? Full of something, anyhow,” Mina chimed in from the stove where she added tea bags to a pot of boiling water.
“I’ll disagree with neither assertion,” Emory said to her, then turned back to the others. “Now, pray tell, why are my extracurricular activities of such sudden interest to you both?”
Ramey almost blurted it out, but she wanted to hear Wim say it. She wasn’t upset that she hadn’t received an actual proposal, but she wanted to hear the words come from his lips this time.
Wim hemmed and was on the verge of hawing too when he finally managed to say it. “I plan to marry Ramey. I want her to be my wife.”
